


Loving Phichit

by Sintina



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Because Phichit naturally loves people, Chris Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Heart-to-Heart, Love Confessions, Multi, Newb mistakes, Phichit acts poly before he knows what polyamory is, Poly Follies, Polyamory, Pre-Poly, Relationship Negotiation, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2018-11-30 02:23:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11453985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sintina/pseuds/Sintina
Summary: Phichit loves everyone. But the lines between friends and lovers began to blur.Fortunately, Chris is a good listener.





	1. Guang Hong

**Author's Note:**

> Posting this is scary for me. Have mercy on my soft, spicy Thai.  
> And if you enjoy his story, please let me know.  
> Lots of little chapters, should post very quickly now that I've gotten over the terror of posting the first.

"Don't just kiss me, Phichit! You can't keep doing that!"

The words didn't make sense. Only moments ago, Guang Hong leaned into Phichit's lips, savoring and appreciating the affection. But then this sweet young man reared back, fear and uncertainty in his eyes. Watching anguish cut into those soft features broke Phichit's heart more than the words Guang Hong slapped him with. Phichit could fix this, cheer him up. That's all he was trying to do. 

"You looked like you needed a kiss!" Phichit chirped, his head tilting to the side. Though his eyes looked sad, his glowing smile was genuine and innocent, not the least bit teasing or manipulative. And Guang Hong knew it. He couldn't respond, because what do you say to that? 

So, shining Phichit, rocking slightly from his toes to his heels, kept sing-songing excuses: "I love kissing you. And you kissed back. And kisses make you feel better when you're sad, right?"

"Phichit!!!"

Now the young Thai took a small step away, giving his friend space. The parking lot around them seemed to open up as a chasm either could fall into. Their conversation in the mall had been hushed, emotional, and stinging. When they walked through the parking lot toward the bus stop, Phichit reached for Guang Hong's hand to comfort him. Feeling the squeeze of his friend's fingers, needy and hurt, Phichit had turned, saw the sadness in the young boy's eyes, and wanted to kiss it away. He acted on that desire instantly, using the hand he held to casually pull his friend close, lower his lips and press them to Guang Hong's. He had hoped an apology, sweet and tender like the shaved ice he tasted on his friend's breath, would melt into the boy's heart from his mouth. Phichit still didn't know what he should be apologizing for, exactly, but the kiss had been a sincere entreaty for forgiveness. 

And he screwed up even that simple ask.

His friend shook his head, turned, and took several silent steps toward the bus stop. 

"Maybe you should wait for the next one. Let me ride back alone." 

No way. That wasn't fair. Phichit huffed through his nose, determined not to be the cause of his friend's pain. He had to be able to resolve this, make the younger man smile again! 

"Guang Hong... I still don't understand." 

"If you don't love me..." 

"I do! You know I do!" Phichit tried to grab the boy's hand again. Hadn't his friend always felt his love when they touched or cuddled or kissed? Phichit loved him so very much! He could show him. 

But his friend pulled away and waved his arms to keep Phichit out of his space. 

"Sure. Fine! You love me. But if you're dating Seung-Gil, you're talking to Chris, and even Leo thinks you guys might be a casual long-distance thing, plus you love Yuri so much..."

"I'm not... we're not... What does any of that have to do with you and me?" 

"I can't let myself be in love with you while you're stringing other people along! I care about those guys, too! They're my friends, too. This is messed up, Phichit! That's what I've been saying all day, okay?! You've got to get your shit together, figure out who you love, and just be with that person! Okay?!"

Phichit gasped and dropped his bag of purchases. Guang Hong ran towards the bus shelter and the approaching bus. He turned just before he got there, once he knew the driver had seen him. 

"And don't kiss me again until you do!!" 

\----------------------

"How long ago was that?" Chris asks while reaching for his mug of spiked hot chocolate. Phichit shifts so Chris can grab it and take a steamy swallow. They lay tangled, fully clothed, on Chris’ couch. Phichit fell into his arms at the airport and hasn’t left much space between them since. He needs a good shoulder, maybe a set of strong pecs, to lay on and cry. He hasn’t cried yet. It’s all been storytelling, talking it out. Chris doesn’t mind.

"Last spring," Phichit's sigh is fuzzy static muffled in Chris’ sweater. "He was visiting me after the season wrapped up." 

“Sounds like you screwed him up royally, mon petit.” 

That’s what he loves about Chris. Phichit rocks with shallow chuckles, laughing so he doesn’t cry. Chris is the most brutally honest person. He’s telling Phichit what he needs to hear, because that's what Phichit asked for. And he’s genuinely trying to help, because Chris is amazing like that. The big Swiss nudges Phichit to look up at his face. 

"He thought he was your boyfriend by then, hm?" 

“Maybe.” Phichit sucks in his cheek, the resulting dimple is far too cute for Chris. 

"Uh-huh. The way you two flirted and held hands the whole time at Four Continents..." 

Phichit whines, rolls to the side, and flings an arm over his eyes in shame. "I can never make fun of Yuri’s banquet amnesia ever again!" 

"True enough." Chris tries to sound thoughtful, but can't hide his rumbling chortles. "Katsuki was careless in his seduction, but you broke hearts all over Asia!" 

Phichit fists a throw pillow and swats it at his supposed friend. “I change my mind! Just say nice things! Tell me what I _want_ to hear instead!” 

“Okay.” Chris laughs and catches the pillow on its third fall against his shoulder. “You’re not a serial man-eater who has no idea what he’s doing???” 

"Chris-toffee! Don't say that! I didn't mean to hurt anyone!" and Chris loses sight of him as Phichit buries himself with a flourish of fluffy comforter. 

"Mon petit. Darling, I know." His voice is raw with affection. "But you weren't honest with everyone, like you were with me." 

"You're different," squeaks the bundle of blanket. 

"Why's that?" Chris chuckles as he watches Phichit wiggle free, his dark hair emerging first before his face pops into view again. 

“You’re you!" He hops on his knees. "Everything about you is special!” 

"Hmm, we'll circle back to why you think I'm different later, shall we?" His sweet petite squirms just a bit more, shirt riding up and hips poking out, both adorable and delicious. 

Phichit giggles when he looks at Chris. "Here," he reaches over, "You've got cream in your mustache." He swipes the froth away with his thumb, then laps the sweetness into his own mouth. 

Chris smirks at him, licking the residual taste from his upper lip. “So, this thing you’ve been doing all year, since Yuuri and Victor made it official in Barcelona, what is it for you? What are you getting out of it?” 

“What do you mean?” Phichit’s eyes squint, he looks worried. Like he’s had this conversation, or a version of it, one too many times. And Chris assumes he probably has. 

“I mean are you dating around because you’ve never dated before? Is it novelty? Or is it the joy of being desired? Or a genuine pursuit of love?” 

“Love!” Phichit blurts without a moment’s hesitation. “It’s love. I love them all. And they love me, too! It’s always been love, even when we were just friends, I loved them so much, Chris!” His voice breaks like Chris accused him of some awful crime. 

“I know, I believe you, cheri, don’t worry." He pats Phichit's knee in apology. "Now. Do you think you were using each of them for unique pieces of themselves that mean something to you? Like Seung Gil’s kissing or Leo’s music or Guang Hong’s social media obsession?" He raises a hand and shakes his head when Phichit starts to protest. "Think about it. Were you not loving any one of them for their whole selves, but arranging all the pieces of a perfect man, that you couldn't find in any single person, among many instead?”

Phichit ponders for a minute on that one, head down, brow crinkling. 

“No.” he states, definitive. “I love Guang Hong totally, everything about him, just like I love you. He's unique and special to me for who he is. I can tell you every little detail about him that I love, if you like? And how that love is different from what I feel for you or Yuri or Seung Gil.”

“Okay, okay. Just checking.” Chris surrenders with a smile. He finishes his hot chocolate in a deliberate noisy slurp, the liquor just barely tingling his senses. He rises to make another and gestures to ask whether Phichit wants one. The little man nods, sheepish into his comforter. As Chris mixes the drinks, he asks, 

“So, what about Seung Gil and Leo?” 

“Leo and I really were just friends.” Phichit crosses his arms over his chest, tight, bunching up the blanket so it puffs out around him like a 1980s wedding dress. “Leo was there to lick Guang Hong’s wounds." He sighs, not sad, but dreamy. "I love them. They’re so adorable together!" Phichit sounds like himself, all of a sudden, chipper and perking up and excited. "Do you follow them? Their coupledom is like watching kitten cams 24/7!” 

Chris chuckles. “Yeah, I’ve noticed.” 

“I called Leo as soon as Guang Hong got on that bus.” His voice jumps an octave as he imitates himself: “I was like: ‘Leo! He hates me now! I mean, I think I broke his heart! Please take care of him!’,” Phichit snorts, shaking his head. “It was awful. But Leo got it. He’s cool like that.” 

“He is.” Chris nods. “I like Leo.”

“I tell them they’re adorable all the time. I’m super happy for them and I think… I hope… we’re all still friends.” 

“Come now. I saw you, Seung Gil, and Guang Hong on TV laughing together at Skate America last Fall.” He dollops fresh cream on the top of each mug. "It looked to me like you were _happily ever after_ with all your boyfriends!" 

"Chris!!" Phichit scowls at his lover and fakes a hefty pout. 

"What?" He parts his hands innocently. "I thought you might be playing nice for the cameras, but you were all over each other’s social media that week, too. I assumed you were at peace." 

"We were. We are,” he covers his face in his hands again. “I figured some things out last summer. You know that, you helped!" 

Chris blows a kiss over the kitchen island. Phichit pretends to catch it with a smirk and then kisses the palm of his hand. Chris hums his approval as the kiss gets wet and sloppy. 

"Anything for you, mon cheri." He smiles, sitting down and whistling into the hot beverage threatening to overflow the lip of his mug. 

Phichit sets his aside on the end table. "After all this, I don't think I'd have any friends left,” he sighs, looking pitiful again. “If it weren't for you and Yuri’s help." 

Chris reaches for Phichit, to bundle the man into his chest once more. The Thai dives for the comfort, like the minutes without it have been unbearable. Chris begins stroking his luscious, dark hair. Phichit curls his knees up to meet his folded arms. His entire body is tucked on the couch and into Chris. The older man smiles and kisses Phichit’s hair, stroking and petting down his back. Phichit exhales, breathy and shuddering. “Seung Gil though…” he swallows, “Seung Gil could’ve been _The One,_ you know?” 

“No. I don’t remember you telling me that.” 

“I was so infatuated with him!” Phichit ducks to hide, again. And he tripped on the word _was_ , but Chris won't mention that now. “Seung Gil made all of this look easy, he made me feel like I was normal. The way I loved people was normal. I never felt ashamed with him and I was so ridiculously in love and lust!” 

“Hmm. It must have been serious. You only told me you guys didn't have good sex, but he was a great kisser.” 

Phichit giggles. “Yes. His lips have quality _and_ quantity!” And he laughs at his own lame joke, covering his eyes with the palm of his hand. He unwinds from under Chris’ protective arm to reach for his drink and take a sip. “You really don’t mind me blabbing all my follies?” 

“Not at all, my petit. So long as you can stomach mine?” 

Phichit snuggles back in to his Chris cocoon, nestling his mug in there with him. “Of course! Your stories are way better.” 

“Dirtier doesn’t mean better.” 

“Says you,” Phichit winks and licks cream off his lip.

Chris stiffens and shakes his head. “Tell me about Seung Gil. Is he the reason you suddenly flew out here to see me?” 

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternate story summary (cause I wrote like 50 of these):  
> Inspired by Yuuri's epic romance, Phichit opens his heart to see if any of the people he loves might love him back. Turns out, everyone loves Phichit! He's never felt more alive, more whole.  
> Phichit makes everyone feel special. But there's a ton to talk about and figure out. He makes newbie mistakes. With Chris' help, he navigates the complications of his abundant love.


	2. Seung Gil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seung Gil is the first to fully accept all that Phichit is. And Phichit gets addicted to acceptance, hard and fast.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew. It's posted. Please let me know if this is good for you. I am _so emotional_ about this fic! OMGOSH.
> 
> Also, last week I posted a Yuri On Festival Stage Drama fic all about that Yuri Tentacle Monster you've probably seen everywhere. [Check it out!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11588556)

"Remember the Chihoko incident?" Phichit hums into his spiked cocoa. A pink curve behind his tan lower lip catches Chris' eye. 

"How could I forget?" Chris gleams with mischief and the beginning of a buzz. "Nudity goes so well with alcohol." His toes wiggle under Phichit’s calves. 

Phichit giggles and squirms. "That's true!" But his face turns wistful. "You know I became smitten with Seung Gil that night?"

“Of course you did. Even I was impressed!” 

\------------- 

Phichit took too many pictures. His memory filled up hours before Victor and Yuri streaked their way up the shingles of a castle to yell at some Chihoko statues. When he went to get pics of that naked rooftop yoga session, he first had to Dropbox the pics of Seung Gil drunk-kissing Nishigori hard and long enough to leave a hickey. Phichit had circled them, shameless for better angles. As his phone incessantly clicked, he swore: 

“I won’t use these as blackmail!”

Chris called from the hot spring, “Ha! We know your plan for those pics , mon petit!” 

The younger man did not deny it. Seung Gil and Nishigori both laughed and continued their impromptu make-out session. 

The father of three woke up the next morning begging to borrow a hoodie to cover his neck. Not that it mattered, his wife cackled when she saw the hickey and heard what happened. With her help, Nishigori hid the purple bruise with concealer. 

Phichit would've worn that mark with pride! Would've uploaded a puckering kissy-face selfie and tagged Seung Gil. The hot little Korean deserved someone who savored those kind of antics, rather than acting embarrassed. Nishigori never even spoke to Seung Gil the next day! That was cold. Phichit liked Seung Gil even more when he realized the young man didn't care whether Nishigori acknowledged him or not. His composure was the same cool confidence he always exuded. Phichit couldn't stop glancing at that same stoic expression, same dark eyes and dark hair. But for the first time, he saw a new Seung Gil in those familiar features; a kindred spirit with whom he could share so much more. 

Seung Gil finally noticed, just before dinner. 

"What are you looking at?"

Think of something charming! Be charming! "You, of course." And Phichit's eyebrows arched in a way he hoped was cute rather than creepy.

One tight corner of Seung Gil's lips perked up. 

Phichit grinned back. "That's not good enough for my file," he pointed at the quirk of his friend's mouth. "We'll have to try harder." 

When they met at prior events, Phichit played a game of how many stony-face selfies does it take to catch the elusive, unguarded smile? Seung Gil was a good sport, even if his version of the game was: how many beers before I'm drunk enough for this? Either way, Phichit's phone held a magical folder of _just_ Seung Gil smileys. 

These were used mercilessly as reaction gifs. By the time Chihoko happened, the pair were texting, even vid chatted once. Nothing serious, more like a prolonged version of checking each other out, seeing if they fit. Phichit loved how down-to-earth Seung Gil was, the way he rationalized some of Phichit's wild thought bubbles before they hovered off into space. 

_Seungy: "Why candy on the hats?"_

_Me: (gif: SlowMo Toothy Seung Gil Smile) "Because I'm the sweetest?"_

_Seungy: "Haha. True. But the lights will melt the sugar, get everyone sticky."_

_Me: "Sticky can be good…”_

_Seungy: “Not on the ice.”_

_Me: “Fine. We use fake candy, like stage props!"_

_Seungy: "These fake candies must be huge to... what is the word? Read? So the audience knows the colorful things on your head are supposed to be candy."_

_Me: “What else could they be?”_

_Seungy: “In a Phichit Show? Ice cream scoops, balloons, hamster balls...”_

_Me: (gif: closed-eye, laughing Seungy)_

After Chihoko, these chats became much more frequent and Phichit enjoyed scrolling through countless similar conversations when he knew the other man was busy or unavailable. Guang Hong noticed this behavior. That’s what set him off and caused the mall scene, the dissolution of their more-than-friendship. 

Not long after, Phichit got to spend a night at Seung Gil’s place. They went _together_ to an afterparty following an exhibition event in Korea. The night air was cool and humid, breezing through a large beach house. But for all the splendor of the scenery, Phichit couldn't wait to get back to Seung Gil's tiny apartment. He’d stayed at a hotel the first two nights and he buzzed to see how his beau lived, to learn more about the man who whisked away his senses, to finally meet his dog! 

Phichit was heady and handsy all night, flirting with anyone who seemed receptive, but wanting to put his fingers to better use. The man he craved was content to skirt the secluded edges of the party and watch Phichit enjoy himself. He shunned affection more demonstrative than discretely gripping Phichit's pinky, or tugging the inside of his shirt cuff when they stood close together. 

Until the Drunk Kisser™ took over, a true Eros transformation. 

When they stumbled, laughing, through Seung Gil’s door, Phichit was surprised to find the couch made up like a bed. The sterile sheet fit tightly over the cushions and a lone bed pillow hunched on one arm of the furniture were both a punch in the gut. He swallowed his disappointment, but it was hard going down. Seung Gil was perhaps too drunk to notice. He deposited his Thai boyfriend on the couch and went to release his husky from the bathroom. The dog bounded into the living room, lifting Phichit’s heart immediately. They fed and walked the pup together, Phichit happy to make a new waggily friend. Seung Gil happy to see his dog, like everyone else, love Phichit immediately. Afterward, Seung Gil plopped down next to Phichit on the couch, heavy-lidded and grinning. 

Phichit wanted to snap a picture, but then Seung Gil whispered “goodnight,” leaned in, and kissed him. 

It wasn’t their first kiss, nor even their first drunk kiss. But alone, in the privacy of his own home, the lips and hands, the breath and _feel_ of this man were entirely different. Phichit felt him everywhere. The comfort of this kiss, the reassurance and promise tingled between Phichit’s toes. Their tongues played a game of tag. Soft chuckles hummed and bubbled between them as they breathed and smiled. And then Seung Gil ended it, standing up, still clutching Phichit’s hand. The Thai rose to meet him, follow him anywhere, but Seung Gil just kissed his fingers and whispered “goodnight, again,” before disappearing behind his bedroom door, husky at his heels. 

Phichit fell into the couch, stunned, overwrought, and blinking at the slab of wood that separated him from everything he wanted. But he was also tired and maybe dehydrated. His body reminded him to work on that, so he wouldn’t be hungover. He filled a glass with water, gulped it down, and fell into his sad little sleepover bed. 

\------------

“Ouch.” Chris grimaces. 

“I know, right?” Phichit exclaims and tosses up a hand, jiggling the ice in his empty water cup. He declined a second mug of spiked cocoa, because he wants to stay sober with Chris. “That moment should’ve been my first red flag.” 

Chris nods, smirking. “Anyone who can resist your charms must be fatally flawed.” 

“Thank you!!” An ice cube escapes the glass and flings to the carpet this time. Chris scoops it up and drops it in his empty mug, dumping both in the sink. “The thing is… he didn’t resist me for long.” Phichit sighs, both dreamy and sad. “The next morning, he gave me like- still, _to this day_ \- the best blowjob of my life. Seung Gil’s oral fixation is a thing of pure magic.” 

“Sounds more like dark magic,” Chris laughs, his back to his friend, thank goodness. “If you’re still so hung up on him after all this time.” He’s thought Seung Gil was toxic for a while, but has always tried to be supportive, only offering little quips like this one to express his displeasure. 

“Hmph, yeah.” Phichit’s huff is wet with emotion. Chris busies himself in the sink to give his sweetheart a breath, let him collect himself. Meanwhile, the older man reminds his inner naysayer that Phichit is _here with him._ Here because Seung Gil didn’t work out, here because Chris can help. He steadies his expression and his fluttering heart. When Chris turns around, sits back down, the story continues. 

\--------- 

They were cute together, Phichit decided as he flicked through images from the prior night. A few more choice gifs were added to his Seung Smileys file. He’d woken up later than he expected. He heard noises from the bedroom of his reclusive mystery man. He waited, heart beating a silly tempo that embarrassed him. Such a schoolboy crush! Phichit exhaled. He had to reign in this mess. But that kiss… his toes curled on the memory, clutching threads of carpet. God, why had it felt so different? So good? 

Then Seung Gil emerged, more dark and handsome than usual, decked out in too-loose, wrinkled black pajamas and matching bed-head. 

Phichit stretched every limb off the couch in greeting: “Good morning, cutie!” His big stretch became a wave as his arms beckoned Seung Gil over to sit.

His friend didn't look like it was a good morning. He sighed, shoulders slumped and joined Phichit. His dog skittered past them into the kitchen. 

“I apologize for last night.” Seung Gil bowed his head, hair hiding his eyes.

“Why silly?! I thought we had such a great time!”

He winced and blinked at the floor. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Sweet Seungy, what's wrong? Did something happen?” Phichit swept his arm over his friend's shoulder, tried to pull the mopey head down to his chest for a cuddle. Seung Gil dodged, shied to the side. 

“Phichit. I... maybe you don't remember, I guess. I didn't think you were that drunk?” His eyes dragged up reluctantly. He swallowed when he saw Phichit’s adorable lips and nose crinkled with concern he knew he didn’t deserve. Seung Gil closed his eyes, tight, in shame and blurted: “I got drunk and kissed like five other guys! Right in front of you!” 

His eyes popped open again when Phichit laughed and cheered: “I know!” Lifting his phone, “You wanna see pics?!” His deft fingers flicked through several images of Seung Gil’s face smushed into the faces of other party-goers. “It's your special drinking power! I love it! I’ve loved it since Hasetsu!”

“You...?” He straightened his shoulders, cocked his head, tried not to smile, because it couldn’t be true. “That was, back then, we weren’t… Last night I brought you as my date!!”

Phichit nodded, so enthusiastic, as he leaned closer into Seung Gil and held his phone so the young man could see all his kissy faces from last night, even better than the smileys, really.

“You're so cute when you're drunk kissing! See?” He stopped on a pic where a bigger guy’s arms bear-hugged around Seung Gil’s shoulders. “I love watching how people react too! The ones who get into it are my favs. Like this guy, who's he? You told me, but I forgot.”

“One of my rink mates.” It finally became real for Seung Gil, and he flopped back into the couch, looking dazed and overjoyed at his boyfriend, like seeing the beautiful man for the first time. “Phichit, I am so relieved you are not mad!!” 

Phichit shrugged. “Of course not! I kissed several people last night too! Are you mad?”

“No!” And it was true, he leaned forward, gripped Phichit’s shoulder with one hand, his knee with the other. He was so relieved he wanted to kiss Phichit. But he was curious. “Did you get pics of you…?”

“Yeah, here, lemme see.” 

Seung Gil blinked at images of Phichit kissing both men and women. He smirked, “Look how _into-it_ that girl is.”

“Right?! She was all tongue, though, like I don't remember what her lips felt like!” 

And they laughed together. Exhilaration swam into the empty pools from which their confusion and misconceptions dissolved and evaporated. 

Looking at photos like this, Seung Gil apparently felt the same inspiration surge through him as Phichit always did. He crowded Phichit and kissed him, hard, it wasn’t all-encompassing, like the drunk kiss, but it didn’t need to be. Phichit was thrilled they were on the same page now! They understood each other at last! And that understanding coursed through their bodies. Making out on the couch wasn't enough. They scrambled and stumbled to the bedroom, shutting the door on the disappointed husky. 

Afterward, Phichit lay satisfied and overcome in a way he couldn’t remember ever feeling with anyone else. Seung Gil was content, not wanting the favor to be returned. They laid face to face and petting one another. 

Seung Gil sighed. “I heard Guang Hong was mad at you or something, but you know I don't pay attention to that stuff. I was concerned, though, for both of you.” His lips quirked the way they always did, avoiding a real smile. “It makes sense now.” 

Phichit arched a brow. “How does _this_ ,” gesturing down his own body, at what they now shared, “help any of that make sense to you?”

“It wasn’t just this.” Seung Gil rumbled with his little chortle. “It was the first time I asked you about your day.” 

“Excuse me?”

“You answered by telling me about Guang Hong’s school stress, Chris’ current love affair, and Yuri’s anxiety about moving to St. Petersburg.” 

Phichit hid his face in the pillow. “I was pretty obvious, wasn’t I?” 

“I thought it was interesting. Your life is lived by those you love.” 

“When someone asks me how I’m doing now, I bet I always talk about you.” 

“Does that mean you love me?” 

“So much, Seungy. So much.” He kissed the words, soft and pleading, there would be no denying Phichit’s emotion. His lover hummed. 

“You were dating both of us, this Spring.” Seung Gil said it like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

Phichit hung his head. “I thought you both knew… and understood…” 

“I had my suspicions. But no, you didn’t say explicitly that you loved us both.” 

“I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay. You don’t mind me kissing everyone when I’m drunk, right?” 

“I already said so.” 

“Good. Because I feel great, kissing people with my inhibitions down like that.” He rolled his eyes and his face went cold, “But I don’t like people enough to do that kind of thing sober.” Staring at Phichit’s dark eyes, he skimmed a finger from one thick eyebrow down, over soft cheeks to the gentle point of chin. “I suppose I would if I was like you.”

“What am I like?” Phichit dipped his face the faint distance needed to bring his lower lip in contact with Seung Gil’s finger. He was rewarded with the graze of a fingernail, sending a chill over the roof of his mouth. 

“You’re like drunk me, but all the time. You’re one of those people who is ‘drunk on life’.” He smirked and it almost sounded like he was making fun of Phichit. But his eyes were soft. “How could I be bothered by the way you are? I am the same.”

“Only when you’re drinking.” 

“I like it that way. And I like you this way.” He pulled them flush. 

\----------

Phichit rests the back of his head on the top of Chris’ couch, eyes on the ceiling. "I wasn't having sex with anyone _but_ Seung Gil. Remember how I made some big deal out of it in my head? Like, I was sexually monogamous and that was so important for some reason."

"But you wanted to have sex with other people?" Chris clears his throat. He doesn’t say ‘with me’, but he hopes it’s implied. Because he knows what happens next. 

"Not really, actually.” Phichit misses the wince of Chris’ features. The pain gone before the young man looks over and continues. “After Guang Hong, I was obsessed with the definition of ‘cheating,’ so I wouldn’t hurt Seung Gil.” 

“Right.” Chris sighs. Phichit can be forgiven his glaring oversight. They’re not talking about their own relationship right now. That’s not the point. He reengages. “I remember. Kissing and cuddling and loving wasn't cheating.” Chris claps his hand over Phichit’s and squeezes. “Such affection was a natural hazard of being friends with you!”

Phichit gasps and tries to pull his hand away, but Chris is too strong, of course. He drags the smaller man close and plants wet kisses on his cheek, pets his hair, way too hard, as Phichit squirms and kicks his feet free of the blankets. Chris pulls Phichit to his chest, swinging him back and forth in a cartoonish, suffocating hug. 

“Stop struggling, my darling love!” Chris chides with exaggerated glee, “I’m just being friendly!”

The smaller man can’t help dissolving into laughter. Finally pulling his head free, he exclaims: “Okay, okay! Point taken!” Then he hugs Chris as hard as his little arms can manage. Chris holds him for several minutes, feeling the mirth dissipate into shuddering sadness once more. Phichit’s voice is small when he asks Chris’ pecs: 

“Should I delete the pics on my phone do you think?” 

“Which pictures?” 

“The ones that remind me of the afterglow with him?” 

“Do you regret what you see in these pictures?” 

“Regret?” He goes quiet for a moment. “No. I don't think so. No, I love them. I love the look of his eyes and his lips, that this secret expression is just for me. I made him feel like that.” Phichit’s chest hitches, his breath caught in a sob he won’t let out. 

“But?” Chris asks, stroking down his spine. 

“But my heart aches for what I lost, every time. Every damn time I look at them.” He’s sniffling now, struggling.

“If you don’t regret them, I would keep them. One day, after the heartache has gone, _and it will_ , you'll smile every time you see those pictures, remembering only the joy you felt.” 

“Heh,” he exhales a sniffly sound. “I smile every time I see them now. It's just a sad smile with my eyes burning, stinging like I am going to cry.” His voice breaks and the tears finally do come, Phichit can’t hold back anymore. “He's so beautiful!” He sobs. “It feels unreal, our time together, like a memory of a dream.” 

Chris holds him closer, “I know. I know.” He squeezes. “I love you, my petit.” 

“I love you too.” Phichit curls into him, balling tight, clinging with his limbs where he can. “I just miss him so much!” And he finally cries in earnest, the real crying Chris had been waiting for since Phichit got off the plane. 

Chris pets and sooths and hums. His nose and cheek nuzzle Phichit’s hair. His kisses fall soft and gentle on Phichit’s quaking, shivering scalp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is "Chris." Are you as excited as I am?


	3. Chris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris is indispensable to Phichit. Their loving friendship predates all the drama currently going on in Phichit's life. So, when Seung Gil declares he _can't stand_ Chris, it breaks Phichit's heart.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I finally added all the poly tags.  
> Before this chapter, the p word isn't mentioned.  
> All the earlier phrasing characters use to describe Phichit, like "dating around", "it's all casual," "drunk on life," "this thing you're doing," and so on, were actual lines I've heard from friends and lovers before any of us had the polyamory lexicon to work from. 
> 
> Speaking of, I hope you'll check out [ We're All A Little Poly Here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/749784) by the delightful BookWrymWritesFic. We're basically in equal love with the Chris/Phichit/Yuri/Victor happy OT4. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter! Stuff gets real!

“You’ve met Christophe Giacommeti, right?” Phichit asked Seung Gil during one of their nightly video chats. 

“Of course.” Seung Gil answered and Phichit was looking at his hamsters off screen, tumbling over each other's tummies in a sort of scampering game, so he didn’t see the change of his boyfriend’s countenance.

“We’ve been friends for a while, ever since the Cup of China last year, when I got the gold.” 

“I know.” 

“Well, I’ve been telling him all about us, about the group chat, and I send him those gifs of you and Bear goofing off in practice. He loves them as much as I do.”

“Hmph." Seungy's humorless face caught Phichit's attention that time. Was it because he hadn't asked to forward the gifs? They were all online. Seung Gil's big hottie rink-mate, whose real name Phichit could never remember because he went by Bear in their chat, posted gifs all the time. Just as Phichit was about to apologize, the edges of Seung Gil's expression softened. "Hyun Woo is a fan of Chris. He will appreciate it.”

"I thought I remembered that about Hyun Woo!" Phichit clapped. He sang Bear's real name aloud to commit it to memory. This was gonna work out perfectly! "So, can I invite Chris to join our chat?" 

That group chat was the beginning of the end. 

\-------------------------------

“You know the worst part?” Phichit sniffles.

Chris rubs a thumb over Phichit’s cheek, all soft and puffy like his beloved hamsters, wiping away the lingering moisture. “No, cheri, what’s that?”

"I'm so effing moody lately!" Phichit swabs his other cheek on Chris's sweater. "I can't stand getting weepy like this out of nowhere."

"You're dealing with a lot. It's to be expected."

"But what about you?!" He sits up in Chris's lap, looks into his eyes. "I came here to see you and be with you and all I'm doing is talking about them!"

Chris pats Phichit's hip. "Shh, petit, I'm here for you." 

"You are. And that's another thing!" He snivels. "I don't feel like I can be my whole self with people like I used to be.” Phichit collapses into Chris's embrace once more. “Like, I want to talk about my boyfriends, plural, with Ciao Ciao and my rink mates. I want to tell my family! But I can't. Or I don't feel like I can." 

"Hmm.” Chris nods. “You'd think polyamory would bring more people into your life, not isolate you from the ones already there." 

Phichit’s laugh comes out with a wet sob. “Uh-huh! Exactly!”

"So you've only talked about all this to... your boyfriends?" Chris has known he was too close to the situation, too close to Phichit, to be objective. But he's tried. And Phichit knows he's tried. 

"Well, Yuri knows some details. And I called him once in, like, a panic over this mess." 

"I think I was there for that?" 

"You were." Phichit blushes. 

\------------

It was 2am in Japan and Phichit needed Yuri. His best friend didn’t answer the first call. And Phichit debated not trying him again. Maybe he could just talk to Seung Gil directly? Of course, it was 2am in South Korea, too. And Phichit wasn’t ready. That’s why he needed Yuri. 

“Phichit-kun?”

“Yuri!”

“What’s wrong?” 

“I’m in Tbilisi with Chris and…” 

Yuri interrupted with a syrupy mumble, “Tbilisi? Where’s?” Then Phichit heard another voice. Victor must have muttered something. Yuri’s voice slurred, “Ohh… Georgia? Wha..?” 

“We met halfway. Yuri, I need your help!” 

Yuri became fully awake, his voice anxious when he replied, “Are you hurt? Is Chris alright?” Phichit heard more muffling and assumed Victor was sitting up and asking about Chris. 

“We’re fine. But I want to have sex with Chris!” Phichit’s voice broke. “But I should’ve _asked_ Seung Gil first and what if he freaks out on me like Guang Hong did?!” 

"Did Seung Gil know you were meeting Chris in Tbilisi?

“Yes.” 

“And Seung Gil knows about Chris, Leo and Guang Hong? How you're sort of dating all of them at once? How it's all casual and nothing's really serious with anyone?" 

"Yuri! Things are serious with all of us!” Phichit hated having to explain this so often. “But things were getting _more_ serious with Seung Gil! I think we were on the cusp of the long-term conversation. That's the problem, Yuri!” 

"The problem is now you like Chris better?" 

"No. The problem is… I don't know! I just don't want to hurt Seung Gil. I love him. And Yuri, I am so tired of hurting people I love." 

“And you haven’t had sex with Chris yet?” 

“Right. I need you to either convince me it’s a bad idea or help me build up the courage to call Seung Gil and ask him!”

“Well, if you want to be the most honest, maybe talk about it on your group-chat? I thought the three of you were all talking?” 

“Four of us! Seung Gil and I both brought a more-than-friend to the table and we were all trying to get acquainted, see if it worked. It was so much fun, Yuri!” Phichit’s voice was squeaking again. “There was all this spontaneous sexting and flirty banter and so many emojis and ALL the puns!”

“Wait _was_?” Yuri played catch-up. “Last I heard you guys were all over the moon for each other.” 

“We were! We are. Sort of. It has basically ground to a halt.” 

“Oh,” Yuri sounded exhausted. And Phichit imagined he would be too, if he had to put up with himself. But he heard the genuine concern and softness in Yuri’s voice when his best friend asked, “What happened?” 

“Well Seung Gil doesn’t like Chris very much. They’re just very different people, it’s kind of… what do the divorce lawyers call it on TV in the states?” 

“Irreconcilable differences.” 

“Yeah, that.” Phichit sniffled. It sucked so much. He didn’t know how to describe to Yuri how much it sucked. “So our chat started breaking down.” Now it was gone. His two favorite people, Chris and Seung Gil, had to break up the group chat. The flirty, new friendship Phichit was forming with Hyun Woo, the burly one from the drunk-kissing photo, broke down as well, because that guy had to drop out of the chat to support Seung Gil. Phichit didn’t say any of this to Yuri. Instead he was quiet for a long time and Yuri, with his wondrous mind-reading powers, somehow understood. 

"I’m sorry to hear that, Phichit-kun. I know you loved that group.” 

“I really did!” His composure gave up the fight. “Yuri, this is the worst. Cause now I don’t have the group _and_ I may lose Seung Gil!” Phichit’s voice grew panicky. Yuri, in all their years, had never heard Phichit become panicky. 

“He didn't think sex with you was exclusive, right? You two seem to be very honest with each other.”

“He’s been so cool, Yuri! I’m the one who put the dumb ‘sex with one person at a time’ thing on myself.” 

“Seung Gil’s not stupid, Phichit-kun, he knew you were flying four hours to meet Chris. I’m sure he thought sex was on the table for you two.” 

“But I told him I wanted to stick to that restriction of mine, because it was so important to me!” 

“Didn’t you and Seung Gil get together when you realized you both like to kiss everyone you meet?” 

“Well, yeah, but…”

“And didn’t you tell me Seung Gil was the first guy to ever _get_ that you are poly?” 

“Well, Chris was the one who even told me what polyamory was.”

“Right, but when was that?” 

“What?” 

“I mean, it’s two in the morning, Phichit. Help me remember. Was it before or after things escalated between you and Seung Gil that Chris became your Poly-fessor?”

Phichit couldn’t help chuckling. Yuri hated puns and he made one, just for Phichit. Or maybe he shouldn’t give Yuri credit for that, it sounded like something Victor would come up with. 

“After. Seung Gil and I started looking into poly stuff at Chris’s suggestion and that’s when we brought Chris and Hyun Woo in and created the group chat.” Phichit’s breath shuddered, short and weepy. “But Chris has _been there_ for all my… poly follies.” He paused for Yuri to snort then get huffy at himself for encouraging Phichit to pun. “Chris put up with all my craziness since like Day One when I started being more-than-friends with Guang Hong and Leo.” 

“And you’ve been completely honest with Seung Gil about your relationship with Chris up until now?” 

“Yes.” 

Yuri sighed with a loving smile Phichit couldn’t see, but could definitely hear in his friend’s soft assurance: “So, if Seung Gil is hurt about you and Chris, that's his responsibility, not yours." 

\-------------

Chris begins a quiet round of applause, his softly clapping hands making a circle in the air. "Trust Katsuki Yuri to be supportive! Even if he didn't fully understand it himself."

“Right?! He’s the best.” Phichit slurps on his ice cream spoon, looking down at his empty bowl. The spoon hangs from his lips as he wipes a finger all around the edge of the bowl. Chris can tell Phichit knows exactly what he’s doing when he then opens his mouth, lets the spoon drop with a clatter, and licks his finger.

Chris's smirk turns sultry, but he does reach for the bowl. “Stop. I can either clean that or refill it. Which do you prefer?”

Phichit rubs his bloated tummy. “I’ve had too many sweets.”

“Never stopped you before…” Chris leans in close. Phichit uses the spoon to boop the bigger man’s nose. Chris punishes him by snatching the bowl away and placing it on the counter next to the sink where it belongs. “So, this means I have Katsuki Yuri to thank for you being here right now?” 

“Hmmm?” Phichit gives him his best quizzical puppy face. “Oh! No, you seduced me just fine by yourself, Chris-toffee!” 

“Then what about…?” He doesn’t say the man’s name. After cradling Phichit’s misery, he doesn’t want to. 

“Oh, I called Seung Gil immediately after I hung up with Yuri.” Phichit props his back against the arm of the couch and beckons Chris to sit down. His limbs, lithe and sturdy, wrap around Chris, the larger man between his legs and leaning onto Phichit’s chest. “It was 3am for him. He had to be up in like, I don’t know, 2 hours? He later told me he couldn’t go back to sleep." Phichit shakes his nose side to side in Chris's hair. With a bitter laugh he huffs, "I was so awful!”

\------------

“Phichit.” Seung Gil’s voice was drowsy, frustrated at being awake, but didn’t sound frustrated with his boyfriend, not yet, anyway. “None of this was ever about sex. We love each other.” 

“Yeah, but…” 

“I’ve had sex with Hyun Woo. Do you love me any less?” 

“No! Seungy! No, of course not, I adore you but…” 

“But what?” 

“ **I** said I wouldn’t… with anyone else.” 

“And you know what I think of your restriction.” 

“Right.” Phichit swore he could _hear_ Seung Gil rolling his eyes.

“You act like you are honoring me with some..." he swore in Korean, "I am too tired to remember the words.” 

“You once texted 'ritualistic pagan sacrifice',” Phichit tried to joke.

“I must have Google Translated that.” He growled. “I do not like it.” His voice was harsh, the phrases simpler in his anger. “I did not ask for your sacrifice to me. I do not like you doing that and saying it is for me.”

Phichit moaned. “And…” he sniffled, then paused. Great. By the time he was brave enough to get to what was really bothering him, he'd put them in a bad place by rehashing their argument over the exclusive sex thing. This is how you make someone hate you. Phichit knew that. But it was too late. He should have slept on this, called when he had more brain cells firing. He’d already slammed on the brakes with Chris. But that was the problem wasn’t it? That’s why he was making all these pre-dawn phone calls in the first place. 

He didn’t want to put on the brakes. More than anything, he wanted to be in bed with Chris right now. But.  
“Phichit. You are too quiet. Let me sleep or finish your thoughts.” 

Phichit swallowed audibly and his breath heaved whimpery and wet into the phone. “You don’t like the sacrifice thing… and… you _really_ don’t like Chris.” 

They never talked about it. They didn’t need to, truly. Seung Gil was straightforward with his reasons for ending the group chat. Chris was too crude, too blunt, too annoying with all the damn innuendo puns, and an absolute nightmare when he started drunk-texting. After a point, Seung Gil felt stressed out every time his phone buzzed. Phichit knew all this. But some masochist part of himself wished they talked about it more. Probably because the polyamorous part of himself wanted to fix it. Then everyone could love each other as much as Phichit loves them. Wouldn’t everyone be happier that way? The same way he wished he could spread joy and love with his skating. That’s really what the hamster-heavy 'Phichit On Ice' was all about, the kind of brightly colored utopia he envisioned true love could be. 

He heard Seung Gil sigh. He could imagine him, in bed, looking up at the ceiling with those 'Why me?' eyes he wore when he had to suffer what he called the 'confounded emotionality of the rest of humanity.' Phichit almost wished it were a video call, because he felt he deserved to see that classic Seungy face. 

“You love Chris.” Seung Gil said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “I do not have to like him to accept that you love him.” 

But how can Phichit love someone his boyfriend doesn’t even like?! He almost got those words out except Seung Gil cut him off: 

“No more bitching to me about it. I am going back to sleep.”

Was he going to hang up? “Are you mad at me?!” Phichit pleaded in a gasp. 

“For calling me like this? Yes. A little.” He snorted. 

Then Phichit chided himself: like Seung Gil could ever be rude enough to hang up on anyone. It was the man's extreme sense of propriety that made him dislike people so much, because no one else in the world seemed to live by the same social contract Seung Gil adopted. He was about to apologize when Seung Gil continued, softer: 

“But not for Chris. I am happy you are seeing him. You do not see him often. But do not call me again until you are home. Alright?”

“Okay. Thank you for talking me off the ledge. I love you.” 

“I love you too, Phichit. Even when you are an idiot. Goodnight.”

\------------

“Then you came back to me.” Chris squeezes around Phichit's middle from behind. They were walking down the hallway from the bathroom, where Phichit just unloaded his many precious toiltries. But when he looks over his shoulder, Chris’s smile is sad, too sad for Phichit. Those soft green eyes shift to the side when he whispers, “Back to bed with me.”

Yes, the first time he had sex with Chris was after that messy series of phone calls. And also yes, he'd never told Chris the content of those calls before now. 

Phichit must look a fright, his lips quiver when he replies, “I loved the rest of that night. You didn't ask questions, just...” He attempts to take a step forward. Maybe they should be back on the couch for this? 

Chris flexes. Those _arms_ hold Phichit still. “I took care of you, gave you what you begged your boyfriends for permission to have.” Chris's baratone turns low and teasing. "Do you need to run off and call Yuri now?" 

Phichit gasps a high-pitch of mock offense and twists his hips. Chris loosens his hold to let him turn around and face him. "Yuri is not my... and I didn't beg!" A smile tugs at both corners of Phichit's lips, no matter how hard he tries to remain offended and frustrated. 

They stand somewhat dumbly in silence a moment. Chris brushes Phichit’s hair with his fingers. He watches Phichit’s face, the gooeyness of rapidfire emotions, and waits. Phichit wets his lips, a soft roll of flesh and tongue that makes Chris _stare_ at his mouth when he snips: 

“Maybe I should call Yuri." He pokes a finger in Chris' chest. "You told me checking-in is so important." Phichit huffs, finger poking. "Because you're a damn relationship guru and you make it all sound so easy! Both you and Seung Gil!”

"Stop comparing us." Chris smiles, but his eyes are dark. Chris kisses Phichit's lips, then, because he can’t deny himself anymore. And they’ve gotten to the good part of the story, as far as he’s concerned, and he wants to celebrate. It's firm and closed-lipped, but moving, puckering, loving. The young man presses close, thigh tensing between Chris’s legs, small hands luxuriating in his neck and shoulder meat. Phichit's kisses feel like coming back to life after a long enchanted sleep; he opens their mouths with his quick, tickling tongue. Chris takes his time, though his synapses surge to go faster, kiss harder, remove clothing. Phichit breaks away with a humming moan like a boy tasting candy for the first time. He licks his lips like it too, like Chris tastes delicious. 

"I've missed you, Chrisuu." he smiles a toothy grin, a hint of tease in it.

"I have a confession." Chris mumurs. His thumb dips into its favorite fleshy grove, the left half of the pelvic crease an inch below Phichit's hip bone. The lingering slide of his thumb through this plane becomes a squeeze of upper thigh in Chris's broad palm. 

Phichit's heart wobbles. Is this it? A next step for them? Whatever that means? Moving in together, maybe!? Inhale, exhale, _breathe_ damn you! 

"Hmm?" Phichit looks up from beneath his thick brows.

“Have you ever seen When Harry Met Sally?” 

Phichit gives Chris his best ‘Are you serious? Have you met me?’ face, and his head turns in a slow, ashamed shake. He backs out of Chris's embrace and crosses his arms. “Really, Chris.” 

The Swiss huffs a laugh and juts out his hip, hand resting hauty upon it. "When we were in Tblisi, while you were on the phone with Yuri, I called Victor."

Maybe time stopped. Maybe they'd fallen into a fantasy storybook and had to escape together.  
Either way, the only dumb word that could burst forth from Phichit's mouth on a muted shriek was: 

"REALLY?!"

"Yes. I was upset. You were freaking out," Chris shoves Phichit's shoulder, it's playful and his smile is beaming. "You literally leapt out of bed, all guilty and bereft, to run and make an emergency best friend phone call! I thought I did something wrong! I didn't want to lose you. So I called Victor."

Understanding deepens Phichit's dark complexion, his adorable eyes blow wide. "This is so romantic! We pulled a When Harry Met Sally!" Phichit dances in place. "Oh, that scene is perfect! When the old-married-couple friends each have to field calls from Harry and Sally at the same time! They talk them both off a ledge in unison! Did we really do that?!" His feet hop left to right and he claps. "Did we seriously make Victor and Yuri into our old-married-couple from When Harry Met Sally?!" 

"Indeed. We really did." Chris laughs. "Victor thought I was being hysterical. I can't believe you didn't hear him on your end. I could hear Yuri talking to you." 

"I did hear him! I thought he was talking to Yuri, but he was talking to you!" Phichit dives at Chris for a hug. Chris enfolds him, squeezing tight. "Oh, Chris-toffee, I love that movie! You know that was Princess Leia in that scene, right?" 

"It was. God, I miss her," 

"Right?!"

Chris swings his little love softly left to right. He's so happy to have brought out the effervescent Phichit he so adores. He should've made chick flick references sooner. 

Phichit pulls away from Chris with half-lidded, come-hether eyes. His devious smile curves like he's discovered a secret by stalking somone on social media. Chris persues him as the nimble man skips backward and around the corner of his bedroom's doorway. Phichit looks michevious and adorable like he's about to pounce on the bed, but Chris catches him, scoops him up, one hand firmly clutching each ass cheek, and kisses him again, harder, unleasing the desire his body demanded earlier. Grinding and pawing one another, they kiss the final steps before they fall into dense plush. 

"Oh!" Phichit's hands splay out to either side, pressing and exploring the luxury beneath him. When they landed, the bed had just the right amount of give, now it feels soft, sturdy, craddling his body so well an exhalation of comfort escapes his mouth and rolls through his muscles, like a sleepy chill. And he is actually chilled, the bedding cooling his aroused skin. "Chrisuu... this is..." 

Chris pulls himself up to watch those chocolate eyes sparkle with wonder, his lover's perfect jaw still hangs open in a sexy little circle of soft lips. Christophe Giacometti may not own a flashy car, have exquisite fashion sense, or a penthouse apartment, but his _mattress and bedding_ are of superb, custom, world class engineering. 

"It's like a bed in music video!" Phichit laughs and he rolls halfway to see what his fingers are experiencing as he runs them over and over a shimmering, deep blue surface that can only be described as "Liquid sex. Your bed is liquid sex!" Phichit feels the pads of his fingers are too rough to properly smooth and carress the flowing, sensuous material of Chris's sheets. He lifts them to his face to examine them, lamenting "I just had a manicure yesterday!" 

Chris laughs. "I have lotions that will make you feel smoother than these sheets, moi petit."

Phichit cocks one of his bushy eyebrows. "Really? Well then," he flips all the way over, "I'd like a pattened Giacommetti massage, please!" He wiggles his butt, dancing his cheeks like some men do with their pecs. "Make me as sleek as a seal! I want to swim in these sheets all weekend!" 

"Yessir," Chris purrs, the invoked image of glistening tan flesh, too supple to properly grip, plumps and thrums between his legs. His hands press firm into Phichit's shoulders, roaming with the same pressure down either side of his spine to cup his ass once more. "One Giacometti massage. With a happy ending, I presume?" 

"Yes, please!"


	4. Chris & Phichit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Details of what Chris calls "the most amicable breakup in history" are finally revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That this long chapter is written, let alone posted, is a testament to the healing power of writing. As I typed most of these words, I felt like shit. Masochistically, I wish I'd felt this shitty when I wrote the sadder chapters. They probably would've been even better! XD  
> I hope, whether or not you're feeling shitty right now, I hope this makes you smile. Let me know in the comments, yeah? I had some comments over the last couple weeks that really, like really, helped me get over my mental/emotional hang-ups. THANK YOU.

Cool and soft, Phichit’s senses rouse one by one. His body is dense with the weight of dreaming. There’s lavender, chamomile, and vanilla tickling his nose. Beneath it all, the smell of Chris, fleshy and stout. When he opens his eyes, Phichit sees only shadowy blue. A pillow rolls before him, fluid shimmers of navy fabric. The bed dips to his side. Chris’ head reappears on the watery pillow, turned away, and ducked, perhaps looking at his phone? 

“I…” Phichit’s voice is hoarse, his throat dry, and there’s drool connecting his chin to the pillowcase as he lifts his head. 

Chris sighs, rolling over, “Well damn. I tried not to wake you. Just getting my phone, love.” He kisses messy black hair. “Go back to sleep.” 

Phichit clears his throat and cranes his neck higher, blinking. “How long was I out?” It feels like _years_. His skin is languid, muscles tingling and fuzzy. Could it be tomorrow already? 

The answering smile he receives is so heavy with affection it pushes those long, thick lashes together. When Chris chuckles, his eyelids close entirely. “Fifteen minutes? At most.” 

“WHA?” Phichit is not ashamed of how high his voice squeaks. 

“You haven’t had a proper massage in some time, mon petit.” 

Chris’ hand ghosts over the dense, heavy blanket that is – so warm- Phichit realizes that’s why his body feels like he's been asleep forever, the sensation is not so much internal as external. This is one of those heavy spa blankets, warm and moist, like bread dough, molding to every soft curve after a masseuse drapes it over your skin. Phichit doesn’t remember that part. He startles, eyes wide, because he doesn’t remember the _happy ending_ either. 

“Did I? Did we?” 

“No, cheri. You were snoring well before the finale.” Chris smiles, petting over the spongy blanket in the region of his lover’s spine. “Besides, do you think I’d take advantage of a man in your state?” 

“What if I _want_ you to take advantage of me?” 

“I’d advise against it.” Chris leans over and kisses the creased fold of skin at his nape, bristling a soft tongue over the short hairs, and smiling when the little man shivers. “But I promise to oblige when you’re feeling better.”

“I demand to speak to the manager!” Phichit squirms his way to his knees. His chin juts up, defiant. “I requested the happy ending and was not satisfied with…”

“Oh? Falling sound asleep under my magic fingers,” which now reach and clutch exposed thighs, kneading the heel of each hand into the muscle, making Phichit exhale long and shaky. Chris smirks, “was not _happy_ enough for you, hmm?” 

The dopey curve of his mouth betrays Phichit. He is happier than he’s been in a very long time. He probably looks drunk. And he doesn’t even care. He flops forward, then onto his back, kicking the spa blanket away as it’s now too hot. He luxuriates in the newfound cool of the satiny sheets as he pulls them up to his chin. He closes his eyes, playfully at first, batting them open again and again at Chris. Then sleep coaxes at his brain stem, beckoning him back. Chris is under the sheets too, and Phichit feels his body’s proximity, the desire to roll into him, curl around him. 

But the siren of naptime pulls him under. 

Sometime later, they wake together, smiling languorous and silly at one another. 

Chris props his head up with one hand, then skates his fingernails in lazy figure eights through fine, dark chest hair. Phichit grins and periodically flexes, not-so-subtly trying to guide the finger skaters toward his nipples. Instead, Chris's nails pluck a few thin, flyaway strands. Phichit squeaks and Chris hums from a sleepy throat. 

“I thought you waxed?”  

“My regular specialist is out on maternity and I don’t trust any of the others.” 

“Carefree, hamster-loving Phichit," Chris coos and his nails skate lower, circling the soft cleft of belly button. "Who would've guessed you're so high maintenance?" 

"Anyone who really knows me," Phichit grins with a wink. 

"If you want, we can go to my guy while you’re here.” 

Phichit shakes his head. “I much prefer the Giacometti Spa to any other establishment.” He stretches his arms until his hands press flat into the headboard, arching his back off the bed. Chris watches this display and reconsiders his earlier restraint. Before he can quip about sex, Phichit’s eyes go playful and he whispers, "I see what you're up to, Chrisuu!" 

"Oh so?" 

"Yep.” He nods against his pillow, way too many times, eyes closed and smug. “First you carb-stack me with hot chocolate and ice cream!” He yawns, wide and loud. “Then you massage me to sleep... right through the carb calorie window!" He pinches the skin above his nonexistent belly. "Now it'll go straight to my gut!" 

Chris laughs, "I’d rather plump up those cute puffy cheeks," with two quick hands, he pinches a cheek on both face and ass.  
Phichit rolls away in an exaggerated huff until he’s on his knees again, arms crossed and glowering down at Chris with shrewd, calculating eyes. 

Because he’s naked, dark package resting soft and smushy above his thighs, the sight of him trying to look cross and authoritative is impossibly ridiculous. Chris opens his mouth to make fun of him, but gets cut off. 

"You're trying to sabotage your competition next season! It won't work!” Phichit tosses the bedding aside. “I'm gonna go run a mile!" 

"In the snow?" Chris laughs as those firm shoulders deflate. Outside, the white sky has softly snowed all day long. From prior visits, he knows Phichit is not a fan of the frigid wetness that clings to your clothes in snowy air. The adorable Thai hates getting wet in general, unless showering, swimming, or sex is involved. Nothing sours Phichit’s mood like a rain or snow day. So, Chris changes the subject. "Besides, doesn't Celestino have a breakup program for you?" 

"A what?" 

"You know, an increased cardio and core routine for when you're post breakup?" 

"WHAT?!" Phichit's eyes go buggy and his mouth forms the prettiest 'o'. 

"I swear.” Chris tsks. “What are you even paying that man for?" 

"Opportunities to pet his perfect hair?" 

"You didn't!" Chris pretends to be scandalized and Phichit falls onto his back and laughs at the ceiling. He stretches his arms again and pillows his hands beneath his head. Chris resumes the game of finger-skating Phichit’s impeccable chest. He knows there’s more to talk about, and now that things are so relaxed, might as well get on with it. 

“So, a year ago,” the tone of his voice draws Phichit’s full attention. He rolls onto his side, face to face. “You’d be having a crisis of conscience lying here naked with me?” 

“Yeah, definitely.” Phichit smiles, his tone self-deprecating.

“Have you figured out why yet?” 

“No,” he quirks one of his thick black brows, “but you sound like you have a theory.” 

“I do. I’ve been afraid to share it.” Chris’s lips fold over his teeth. He worries them back and forth, until he sighs, “I already screwed up with that hallway seduction, earlier.”

Phichit starts to giggle, but then sees the concern etching Chris’s beautiful features. “Hey, handsome, don’t do that!” He puckers a kiss to the air in Chris’s direction. “I enjoyed it. I like you when you go primal on me.” Phichit slides a reassuring hand down to Chris's hip. 

“I’m glad. But…” He halts Phichit's progression toward his ass. Chris’s arousal is a difficult beast to tame. He’s always identified himself as an oversexed playboy, using physical intimacy as the solution to any problem, but now he’s so thankful Phichit fell asleep, because, “I don’t want to throw you off course in processing everything.” 

“Do you really think I’m that impressionable?” Phichit knees a heavily muscled thigh under the covers. “Should I be offended?!”

Chris raises both palms in surrender. “No. No. But I'd hate to think I've manipulated you.” He clears his throat. Phichit has never seen Chris so nervous. “I mean… I have everything to gain here!” His hand brushes through his own hair. “I’m not exactly impartial.” 

Phichit laughs. "That's why you're different."

"Different?" 

"Remember? You asked why I thought you were different."

"I did, didn't I?" 

"Yes." Phichit nods, grinning. "And you're different because you're the only one who asked me about how I love everyone. You’re the one who questioned me: 'why?' You've helped me figure everything out, and you haven't pushed your opinions on me." 

"Cheri, I'm sorry no one ever just asked you about it before. It sounds like they all made assumptions about what they didn't understand." 

"It's okay," and Phichit takes the opportunity to make a familiar joke that always irks Chris just right, "all those younger men just weren't as wordly and wise as my cradle robber."

Chris rolls his eyes. "I'm serious. Guang hong was hurt, but what he said to you was unfair. You can't just decide who you love 'most' and 'be with that person.' Well, you can settle down, but only with a partner who's willing to share you sometimes." And Chris winks. 

Phichit's tummy does a backflip. Is Chris implying he'd be comfortable as Phichit's life partner? Well, Chris isn't going to get away with distracting Phichit from the topic at hand. 

“Hmmm,” Phichit squints. “Okay, be my TV style therapist!” 

“What do you…?” 

“Do what you do best," Phichit boops his nose, making Chris's eyes cross. "Ask me questions and see if I come to _your_ conclusion on my own!”

Chris thinks this is ridiculous. But he already has his first question in mind. 

“You’ve hinted at sex issues between you and Seung Gil...” before he finishes, Phichit interupts: 

“Oh, that’s easy!” Then he sighs, realizing he doesn’t want to look at Chris for this conversation, so he rolls onto his back and says to the ceiling, “Sex with Seung Gil never got penetrative. I think we both wanted it, but we were shy, or something." He shrugs his shoulders. "We never made it to that before you and I happened."

"So Seung Gil _was_ jealous of us in Tbilisi?"

"No, not at all. It was me. I couldn't get comfortable with him after that." Phichit bit his lip. He didn't want Chris to think this was his fault. "It was my own silly hangup," he says quickly.

There's a rueful bite to his tone, even though his lips still curve upward. Phichit is one of those people who laughs at himself every time he cries, because he hates to not always be smiling. Maybe it's because he thinks people need him to smile? Chris might not have time to get to that on this trip. For now, he says nothing. Phichit clucks his tongue, as though chiding himself. 

"Remember my sex only with one partner at a time rule?" 

"Yes. I remember." Chris wants to say more, but this is already working. Phichit is right there. Chris swallows. 

"It's like that dumb internal contract kept tripping me up, like I wanted to be with Seungy, but then I'd think how I wanted to be with you again someday too." Phichit tsks, gritting his teeth. "It was so stupid! I'd work myself up into a state over it." Phichit makes fists in the sheets. "Seung Gil says it wasn’t just my sex thing," Phichit snorts, still unconvinced after all this time. "He says I want more than he can give me. He can feel me being dissatisfied with him and he wants me to be satisfied with someone else." His voice breaks and he swallows around it, continuing in a near growl. "Plus, he wants to have someone who feels satisfied with him, like Hyun Woo."

“And all of that sounds very fair.” Chris pets softly up and down Phichit's chest, feeling it hitch and suck in shallow breaths of air. 

“Yeah, but it _feels_ so horribly unfair! We were good together, I hate to have a little thing like sex mess us up!” 

“Sex is no little thing.” 

“Not to you!" Phichit shoves Chris's hand away. 

“Or you, either, mon petit, or this wouldn’t be an issue."

"It's not an issue for me!" Phichit squeaks, pushing Chris's shoulder. "You're the sex god here! I don't care about it that much, honestly!" But he says it so defensively, Chris knows he's still lying to himself.

"You just said your obsession with _sexual monogamy_ was what really ended your relationship." Chris hopes the emphasis on those two words sinks in for his lover. 

Phichit goes quiet for several seconds. 

“Oh my god,” he rapid blinks several times. “That’s what I was doing!" He slaps both hands flat on the mattress, pushes himself up, then fully looks at Chris again. "I was using sex to designate my primary!”

Chris breathes a sigh of relief. “Yes. That's what you were doing.” He’s suspected this for months. But if he was wrong, what a thing to be wrong about! So, he didn’t dare suggest it. And it wasn’t any of his business, what happened in Seung Gil and Phichit’s relationship, until Phichit made it Chris’s business by breaking up with Seung Gil and flying to Switzerland a few short weeks later for comfort.

“If I’m not having sex with you, then you’re my secondary,” Phichit tosses himself from the bed, grabs Chris's sweater from the floor, pulls it over his head. It's long enough on him to be modest, as he paces. He sounds like a film noire detective putting all the pieces together. “Before you and I happened, Seung Gil was my primary because I was only having sex with him and no one else.”

"But after Tbilisi, you wanted him to stay your primary, because you loved him so very much?" It hurts to say this part out loud, but Chris knows it's true. Phichit stops and stares at him. Chris feels nervous again that maybe he's missteped or assumed too much. “That’s what I thought, anyway. I didn’t figure it out until you were back home and talking to me much more often than beore Tbilisi. It was like,” and Chris chuckles, “your focus shifted.” 

Phichit claps his hands and whoops: “Chrisuu! Chrisuu! You’re right! That’s exactly what I was doing!” He hops onto the bed on his knees and shimmies to the night stand to grab his phone. And Chris watches, mesmerized by the way his lower half wiggles as he scoots and dives for the device. 

Elated once he has his phone in both hands, Phichit chirps: “I need to tell—“ and stops short. 

“Seung Gil?” Chris offers. 

Phichit looks up with terror in his eyes. 

Chris sits, shoulders flat against the headboard. "How long has it been since the most amicable breakup ever?"

"I dunno," Phichit's eyes go buggy with nerves, "two months? Two weeks?"

"Phichit. Amour, you're being ridiculous." Chris will never understand how he can switch 180 emotional degrees over and over. 

"I don't know! I didn't memorize the date." He huffs. "It was long enough ago that I can lie naked in a bed with you for an hour without crying, but still so recent that I am probably gonna cry now that I've got clothes on!" He does that nervous laugh thing, a laugh that's wet and a smile that looks terrible when paired with his watery eyes. "I'm sorry! I'm such a trainwreck!"

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"We texted yesterday. He won his Nationals, of course. See? He sent me a candid after-podium pic that Hyun Woo took and didn't post because," his smile goes wobbly, "Seungy wouldn't let him."

And he sobs.

"Petit fleur, my goodness!" And Chris scoops and tucks Phichit onto his lap, a sitting little spoon with his back against Chris's chest. He curls around him as Phichit cries again. Chris pets and soothes, whispering, "Little lamb, little lamb."

Now Phichit's words are a torrent of emotion. “I didn’t tell him I was on my way to see you! I don’t know why. It’s not like it matters anymore.” His mind is clearly running a mile a minute because he jumps back to the revelation in a sniffling outburst: “Gosh, you’re so right. Stupid primary sexual monogamy was what I was doing. I can’t believe I never caught it!” 

“It's not stupid. It works for a lot of poly couples." 

"No wonder I was such a little bitch in Tbilisi!" He sniffles. "Tbilisi changed everything!”

"You weren't a bitch. You were..." Chris swallows, trying to come up with a kind way to put it, "navigating waters that were wholly new to you, maybe?" This whole conversation guts Chris more than he expected. He feels worn out already. And there are probably emotions he's not dealing with, biting back, because he loves this silly little man and so desperately wants to get to the other side of his mourning and self-deprecation. 

Phichit sniffles. "Things were never the same with Seung Gil after Tbilisi. And I always thought it was his fault, that he didn't trust me anymore or he didn't love me like he used to because he knew you and I were growing so much closer and he disliked you so much!" Phichit groans and his body shakes. "But it was me. The whole time! It was me treating him differently because I'd decided you were my primary now and he was my secondary. Just because you and I had sex! Oh my gosh! I'm so stupid!"

Chris grits his teeth. It takes considerable willpower not to be offended. Phichit isn't deliberately trying to diminish the love they share, define their relationship in sexual terms only, like they're nothing more than fuck buddies. That _is not_ what Phichit's doing; Chris repeats it to himself. Phichit is re-framing the recent past based on new conclusions. This is part of learning from your mistakes, this is part of growing. Chris takes in one sharp breath and exhales long and low.

Phichit, dense as he can be when he's emotional, feels the stiffening of his lover's body. He hears the rasping tension of that last breath.  

“But the truth is," Phichit continues, softer. "Seungy and I never had penetrative sex, even though he wanted to, because I didn't want to do it with Seungy anymore! Because _you and I had_. And it was amazing. And I love you so much!” He pulls one of Chris's hands to his lips and kisses the knuckles, full of apology and appreciation.  

“What did I say?” Chris tries to joke, voice shakier than he expected. “Breaking hearts all over Asia!” 

Phichit curls away, with an exaggerated clutch of the soft sweater over his chest: "Too soon!!" He whines and burrows his face into a plushy sleeve. "Oh my god! I’m the worst! I can't believe I was so stupid not to see it! I'm so sorry, Chrisuu!"  

"You weren't stupid, mon petit, you were acting true to your feelings. Your only crime is not communicating what your feelings meant or," he clears his throat, "how you were affecting others with your actions."  

"I didn't know how to communicate this!" Phichit waves both his arms like a kid blaming a sibling for something that's clearly their own fault. The long sleeves shake down over his fingers and he looks impossibly adorable. This, right here, this is why Chris will never have kids if he can avoid it. He'd be putty in the face of so much cute. Phichit makes it worse with a pout. "I didn't have the words until _just now!_ I didn't even realize what I was doing!" He crosses his arms, putting on an adorable show for Chris, and thrilled to see how well it's working. 

Chris reaches for him and pulls him into a hug. "I know, love, I know. I read a book once that begged the question: What is responsible for more evil in the world: wickedness or ignorance?" 

"I was so ignorant!" He pulls away and looks back down at his phone. "That's why I need to call Seung Gil." Phichit starts playing with his hair, combing his fingers through it. 

"I wouldn't video him unless you put some of _your own_ clothes on." 

Phichit laughs. He kisses Chris hot and quick, then tosses the sweater over his head and scrambles from the bed, a whirlwind of naked limbs. Chris can't help whistling when that tight ass is flashed in his face as he bends over to retrieve his clothes. Phichit juts a hip and smacks one of his own cheeks before he slides pajama bottoms up over them. 

Once he's clothed and back in bed, he does a quick calculation of the time in Korea and he falters on whether or not to actually call. He goes fidgety with his phone, he looks up at Chris with plantive eyes. “But like, maybe he’d be mad that I’m here with you. He always says he doesn't mind when I talk about you. But I know he’s never liked you."

"I am sorry I came between you two." For all that he's the "winner" in this situation, Chris hates to feel responsible for breaking up what was clearly a mutually loving relationship. 

"It wasn't your fault. He's just... hard wired to dislike and distrust guys like you. He's an introvert and believes very strongly in, uh, _civilized_ behavior, it's kind of how he protects himself. His survival mechanism so he doesn't become so anti-social that he'd hate performing, even." 

"You'd think a guy like that would hate being on display, competing, all the crowds." Chris gets up and retrieves his sweater, pulling it on and looking for his pants. 

"He doesn't perform because he wants to be seen, but because he knows he's talented and such talent shouldn't be wasted. It's not even about the competition, it's about using what you're given."

"How noble." 

"Right? He's a good guy. He's just not like us. He's not like most people, really. And he feels like he has to protect himself from most people in order to stay sane." Phichit laughs, still looking indecisive and studying the face of his phone. "And with **_you_**. Oh man."

"What's so wrong with me?" 

"Well, it's like he's built a bug zapper around his whole identity that is specifically designed to keep him safe from guys like you, because you're toxic for him. You're loud, kind of a dick, and have zero respect for social mores. You exhaust him. You're the reason he doesn't do people." And Phichit laughs, grabbing Chris's hands. "But you're so perfect for me!" He puffs a breath of air up at his bangs, waving the strands in a flurry. "It's not fair that I should be capable of falling in love with such incompatible people." 

"Petit Phichit..." Chris leans in for some soft snugs. 

His sweater is cuddly and warm. "I love you so much, Chris." 

"I love you too." He squeezes Phichit tight. "But you can't force all the people you love to fall in love with one another."

There's a tiny spiteful part of Phichit that makes him whine: "Then what's the point of being poly?" Chris's chuckles rumble under his cheek, and Phichit sighs. "For a while there, I had everything. I had it all. I loved everyone and they loved me back and we could all be friends, some of us even friends with benefits. And I didn't lie to Seung Gil, even if I was lying to myself, I was so honest with him. I wanted the relationship to last. I love him so much!" 

"I know, love. I know." 

Phichit fiddles with his phone. His fingers smooth over the edges of it. He avoids sliding one across the screen to unlock it. He swallows. "You don't mind me calling him? I mean..." 

"Darling, you've been naked in my bed for a quarter of the day." His legs clamp onto one of Phichit's thighs. "I'm confident in my status with you." He grinds and Phichit bites his lip, blushing.

"But... calling him now I'd be, like, throwing us in his face, wouldn't I?” 

"Only if you're a dick about it."

"Do you think he'll think it's a dick move?" 

“Here." Chris grabs Phichit's phone. "You've reached the point where you're asking me what Seung Gil thinks. _Me!_ " Chris shakes his head, holding the phone out of Phichit's reach. "Time to call him and find out.”

Phichit struggles and tries to wrestle with Chris to no avail. He goes still when he hears the bubbling video call ring, ring, ring. At the rustling sounds of someone picking up, he dives off the bed, dragging a pillow with him to hide behind.


	5. Happy Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Relationships can shift, without ending. There are so many ways to love and be loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a **REALLY** hard time delivering on my "angst with a happy ending" tag. So much so that I considered deleting it, twice.  
>  But then, an epiphany: Instead of writing what did happen (spoiler: lots more ugly crying), write what you wish would've happened! BOOM. Happy endings! I really love this chapter now. It turned into the longest chapter in the story, because happy endings are good for you.  
> Thank you, so deeply, for your readership, comments, thoughts, and encouragement! On this fic, especially, every comment soothed "the scars on my heart" (- Pink "Just Give me a Reason"). 
> 
> I love you all in the same sunny way Phichit loves everyone. You're all special and important to me.
> 
> Especially you, my Noms.

The heels of Phichit's hands press into his ears so he can't hear the ringing of the call. He realizes, a second too late, that Seung Gil would answer, expecting to see Phichit and instead...

Chris's face appears on Seung Gil’s phone. He assumes this is a drunk dial and almost hangs up. Except Chris is clearly struggling off screen, trying to pull someone else into the shot. The verdict is still out on the drunk dial, but Phichit must at least be aware Chris has his phone. 

Seung Gil clears his throat. 

“Seung Gil? Hi!" Chris bobs into view and waves. "Haven’t seen you since...when? Four Continents? How are you?” 

"What are you doing with Phichit's phone?" Seungy's voice sounds tired. It’s far later in Korea. This was a horrible idea! 

“Where is Phichit?” 

Chris faces the phone in Phichit's direction. “He's being... well... _Phichit_ at the moment.” Chris' profile forms a pointed glare off screen.

“So, you are calling for him?” A scoff of genuine annoyance as Seung Gil’s face cranes to look behind Chris. “Phichit?”

Phichit pops up from his hiding place behind the side of the bed. His eyes are clenched shut and he’s blushing. “Hi, Seungy,” he manages to squeak with a slow, one-handed wave. 

Chris dives across the bed and shoves the phone at his exasperating boyfriend.

Seung Gil hears a yelp of embarrassment and makes out the blurry jostling of a phone changing hands, a flash of bedding, perhaps a pillow, then Phichit's awkward smile and flushed cheeks fill the screen. 

"Seungy! Hi!" He waves for real this time. "We were just talking about you, or I was, and Chris said I ought to just talk _to_ you, and..." 

His ex sighs. "You look like you have been crying." 

Phichit is struck, as usual, by the direct to-the-point nature of a conversation with Seungy. There’s no talking around the subject at hand. He never let Phichit get away with that when they were together, why start now?

"He has." Chris offers, breaking the silence. 

Seung Gil’s eyes fall. "Talking about me still makes you cry?"

Again, Phichit has no response to this. He thinks maybe his mouth is making hungry fish shapes. Seung Gil looks up.

“Are you okay? What is wrong?” 

Phichit inhales a huge breath and on the exhale says, “I… I figured something out, about us, about me, everything." He swallows and makes eye contact with Seung Gil for the first time. "I wanted to tell you right away. But then I got scared you'd be mad I was here with Chris and..."

“You know," Chris interjects before Phichit takes that train off the rails. "My only role was to force Phichit to make the call. I don't have to be here while you guys talk.”

“Chris has a point.” Seung Gil nods, though his eyes and expression betray nothing of his opinion on the matter. 

“Sure,” Phichit groans. Seung Gil’s response is something he understands differently than Chris understood it. “But it’s not _the_ point."

"I see. You are still not ready to talk to me.” Seung Gil looks off screen with a scoff. “Chris, please do not call me on behalf of Phichit again." And he’s preparing to hang up. 

"Wait! Talking about you doesn't make me cry!" Phichit gasps. "Talking about how I fucked things up with you makes me cry." And as if on cue, his eyes sting and he starts sniveling. But Phichit manages to choke out: "I cry when I talk about how I lost you."

"You have not lost me, Phichit. I am right here."

Chris inhales. He shouldn’t be surprised that Phichit made the breakup sound so much more final than Seung Gil seems to think it is. Chris wants to leave the room, and quickly, but he doesn’t want to abandon Phichit. 

"The point is…” Phichit restarts, “I want things to be like they were between us.” 

“Things will never be like that again.” It’s so matter of fact, even Chris’ chest stings and he barely knows this guy. Phichit is clearly fighting back tears. Seung Gil sighs, because he knows he sounds blunt in English, but he’s tired of trying to sound softer or project something just to make others feel better. “It is not the end of the world.” He tries. “Not even the end of us.”

When Phichit doesn’t answer, Seung Gil, in a rare spurt of verbalization, continues: “Chris is there with you, Phichit. He can give you things I can’t. And I know you love me and I love you. But I don’t make you happy. I make you miserable.”

"Do I look happy?" Phichit snivels.

Chris grits his teeth and tries not to take offense.

"I am sure you were happy before you started talking about me. You look freshly fucked."

"How would you know?!" Phichit snaps. Then he gasps, slaps his hands over his mouth, and starts whining in Thai over and over again. Even to a non speaker, it is obvious he's saying 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!'

Seung Gil just shakes his head. When his eyes look up, they meet Chris's and the Swiss man swears there's a smile teasing at Seung Gil's cheeks. Something that says: 'He's your problem now. Don't mess this up.' But maybe Chris is being a jerk. Seung Gil is so damn hard to read. It doesn’t help that what comes out of the Korean's mouth is softer and more tender than Chris thought possible. "Phichit. You are not like this."

The melodic cadence of his heavy accent when he sweet-talks, when he's open like this, is so pleasing to Chris's ears he leans toward the screen. Which is a good choice, because Seung Gil's voice maintains its decadent luster as he continues.

"You have built me into something I am not. I was some sort of first for you. You were for me as well, and that will always be special, we will never lose that. But you have moved on and that is okay. I miss you, I miss us." Seung Gil inhales, because his voice broke on the last words, and Phichit's fists wrench Chris's expensive sheets into a nest of crumbled wads. "But I do not miss seeing you a mess like this. And when you are trying so hard to be with me, this is what you are like. And it is not _you._ "

Chris can’t help the comforting hand that rises to stroke Phichit’s back. He palms big, firm circles, scrunching Phichit's shirt. He’s proud to see Phichit make a weak smile at Seung Gil.

Phichit swallows. “You’re right, of course.” 

“Thank you." Seung Gil smirks, something that must be seen as a peace offering, because Phichit returns the grin easily. "And while we are on the subject, I suggest you treat your boyfriend better." He says it like a joke, but when Phichit tries to protest, Seungy shakes his head. “Have you acted like Chris is not even there the whole time you have been with him?” 

“Not the _whole_ time,” Phichit confesses, with an eye roll. He leans back toward Chris’s soft, stroking hands on his spine. 

“He makes you happy, Phichit. He always has. Let him.” Seung Gil grins a devilish smirk when he sees Phichit’s face flush and hears Chris snort. “Get happy again and call me when you are. I do not want to see you until you are over all of this.”

“I’ll try. I promise.” Phichit smiles. Then he steels himself, squaring his shoulders. “But first, I need to tell you what I called to say.” 

“Go on.” Seung Gil’s husky climbs into the man’s lap. Phichit chuckles as his ex readjusts with the big log of fur taking up most of the screen. 

“With you, I was being open about being romantically polyamorous, but sexually monogamous because I didn't want to screw things up like I did with Guang Hong and Leo and Chris before." Phichit laughs at himself, "But I found a new way to mess up. I didn't realize I was using sex to distinguish my primary partner.” 

"That means, after you returned from Tbilisi..." Seung Gil doesn’t look hurt, just concerned, or maybe confused. “Why did you not just tell me?” 

“I didn’t realize it until _just now_. And the first thing I did was call to tell you!"

"Well, you made Chris call me and then hid yourself for the first minute or two." Seung Gil says, chiding, but not seeming to be angry. Phichit puts a hand on his hip, and his eyes squint. Chris feels like this is some sort of flirty-fighting they must have always done as a couple. He's deeply curious. 

"Still though! I would have told you sooner. I didn’t know that’s what I was doing! I’m so sorry! Really! I’m sorry I treated you so differently all of a sudden. You didn’t deserve that! At all." Phichit hangs his head, breathing heavy. Chris can't help himself. He saddles up behind his love and wraps an arm around Phichit's waist. He can't quite see Seung Gil anymore, as Phichit has the phone in his lap now, pooled in the center of his crossed legs. But that's probably for the best.

"Thank you, Phichit," Seung Gil sighs, soft and small. "For your apology and your explanation. I do understand, I think."

"Do you? Really?" Phichit looks up with weepy eyes, once again. "I promise, no matter what I said or acted like, I never stopped loving you. I loved you just the same as always! I just... I wanted... I didn't recognize what had changed..." his voice breaks. "I'm so stupid. I didn't mean to hurt you, or Chris, either! But I hurt you both." He twists his upper body, constrained by the loop of Chris's arm, trying to look into Chris's eyes. He settles for dropping his head to Chris's shoulder, looking up at the ceiling.

"I forgive you, mon cher," Chris whispers while his arm flexes around Phichit's midsection. Seung Gil must have heard, because he huffs a soft laugh. 

"There, you see." His smiling voice says from the tinny speakers below them both. "You were right all along, Phichit. Your Christophe and I do have something in common." 

Phichit blinks and looks back down at his phone, the gorgeous, dark eyes of his ex. "You forgive me too?" 

"Of course." 

The relief is so strong it hurts. Phichit feels knocked off his axis. He swallows several times. He's so overcome with happiness all of a sudden, that another sad thought, a silly one though, has to bark its way into his mind, as though sadness is his natural state. He laughs at himself. Because of course. "Even now," he hums, "I wish we could all talk like this, all the time.” Phichit sniffles. “But I know in my heart this will be the _last time_.” 

Seung Gil scoffs. “Phichit, please. I can handle your boyfriend in small, controlled doses, I promise.” 

"Thanks!" Chris laughs, despite himself. Seung Gil isn't so bad.

Phichit cringes. He’s always compared their sense of humor. Which they both hated. But Chris can be callous, same as Seung Gil. Chris just hasn’t turned it into a full blown lifestyle the way Seungy has. And Phichit’s losing track of his thoughts and his emotions as he’s sitting here between them, so happy and so full of regret, at once. 

Seungy, reading his mind, says, “We will see each other at competitions. We can all go out, if the two of you want." 

"I'd like that," Chris offers, nodding into Phichit's shoulder. 

"I'll try to be smiling by then," Phichit sighs. 

"Good. You have a beautiful smile." Seungy's voice is sweet again. "Have a good visit in Switzerland. Stay warm." And Seung Gil, the stoic, enigmatic figure skating champion of Korea _winks_ at his ex-lover and his ex's current boyfriend. Chris may have grown from hating this young man to loving him in the course of a single conversation, because the effect the wink and playful innuendo has on Phichit is instantons and complete. It is resolution made flesh. 

"You know we will!" Phichit beams. "So, yeah, until next time. Talk to you later!" And he waves with energetic sincerity until the Seung Gil disappears. 

Phichit stares at the blank screen of his phone as it sits lifeless in his hand for a long time. Chris waits and pets his darling cat. She apparently woke up, sensed the discomfort in the room and came to curl against his thigh. She purrs loud, no doubt frustrated with both of them for their continued sadness despite her glorious presence. When Phichit looks up, Chris is smiling down at the cat as he strokes her. She's cat-grinning back up at him, eyes all scrunched in happy half-moons. 

Phichit inhales a breath that feels like genuine relief for the first time in months. And he shares his happiness with them both in a shower of pets and rubs and love. 

~~~~~~~ _12 hours later_ ~~~~~~~~  


Petting and affection lasted long and languid, never getting heated, just nurturing and adoring one another after a heavy day. Emotionally exhausted, they’d curled up in a tight spoon and passed out early.

The Persian always insisted on sleeping in such a position that she could be touching both of them throughout the night. Which, right now, means she is draped across Chris's hip with her chest and head precariously planted in the dip of Phichit's tiny waist.

He wakes with the tickle of her whiskers. And when he shifts, she complains, which wakes Chris. They both lift their heads just enough to smirk at the silly feline. She responds by not budging a millimeter, and purring her entire face off. Eyes adjusting, they both realize the darkness outside means very late night or too early morning.

Chris scooches closer, pressing up against Phichit. He reaches around and rubs his big hands over Phichit's shoulder blades and kisses his temple.

"How are you feeling?" Chris whispers in a voice hoarse from hours of soft snoring.

"Better." Phichit smiles. "Thank you." He nuzzes his nose under Chris's chin. "For everything."

“Glad I could be here for you.” Chris coos, soft as a lullaby. Chris’s fingertips tease a pinch at Phichit's hip flesh.

Phichit squirms and giggles. “I’m gonna spend the rest of my life thanking you, Chris, I think.”

“That sounds nice.”

They skipped most bedtime activities, so each does their moisturizing or dental hygiene routine now. Sharing the bathroom, they dance around one another to see in the mirror, reach for a towel, or spit in the sink. One or the other will sneak in a cuddle as they press close. They muse about going back to bed, as Chris outfits them both in plush, comfy robes, but agree they've both slept enough and laze their way to the living room and kitchen.

Phichit remembers which cabinet is all coffees and teas. He rummages through labels he can’t read, opening packages to smell what’s inside.

“Do you have any cereal?” Phichit asks, when Chris retrieves yogurt and fruit from his fridge.

“I have oatmeal. Or do you mean that breakfast candy Americans eat?”

Phichit pulls a face. But Chris tuts with a waggled finger: “You accused me of sabotaging your season with ice cream and cocoa. Now you request sugar cubes to start your day?”

Now Phichit’s features scrunch up into the cutest grumpy mope ever, crossing his arms for good measure. “Just make me some coffee.” He hands Chris the variety he’s chosen, sticks out his tongue, and sulks away towards the couch. While his back is turned, a cabinet opens and Phichit hears the unmistakable shaky rustle of a cereal box.

He wheels around and the expression he beams upon his boyfriend is pure childlike wonder. Chris rattles his Nestle Cini Minis like a package of kitty treats. Phichit leaps at him and Chris holds the box aloft, out of his reach. Phichit grabs the counter for leverage, hikes a knee up next to the sink, and snatches at the cereal. Chris doesn’t dodge away, but snares one arm around Phichit’s waist, gripping the soft belt of his robe. Phichit clutches the box, but Chris keeps a firm hold of it. A tiny tug of war ensues, but caught in Chris’s embrace, Phichit has less freedom of movement. Triumphant, Chris purrs:

“Nestle is a Swiss company, petit.” He kisses his lover’s cheek. “Plus, I knew you were coming. Of course I have cereal.”

Phichit’s lips curl and purse, amused, but a sore loser. He closes the distance and kisses Chris properly. He wins the cereal box for his efforts, as Chris’s hand lets it go in favor of cradling Phichit’s head. Chris lowers him to the floor, continuing the kiss on his way down.

Opening his eyes, Phichit sees the first hazy, pink light of dawn behind the curtains and whispers: “Good morning.”

Chris smiles and gives him a squeeze. “Good morning to you.”

When they separate, Phichit hugs the cereal to his chest while he gets a bowl and spoon. Chris makes their coffee and hands Phichit the milk.

They talk of everything but yesterday’s revelations and emotions. Phichit has been binging a new series and he regales Chris with his love for its main characters. Chris debates the pros and cons of participating in an ice show he was invited to.

It’s Phichit, when he’s ready, who addresses the leftover thoughts in his head.

“So, I, uh, want your help with something,” he starts.

Chris senses the mood shift. “Anything.”

“I’m gonna delete the group chats, and all related pics and gifs and videos and just _everything_ from my phone,”

“Are you sure?”

“I won’t permanently trash them. I’ll store it all off my phone.” He sighs. “Somewhere I can’t just agonize over the old stuff whenever I want to make myself sad.” He cuts Chris a side eye smile. “Like you said yesterday, I’ll have to really _want_ to see the pictures.”

And so, they set about to delete all of Phichit’s saved group chats, so he doesn’t obsess over what was. Chris has Phichit’s phone, while Phichit creates folders on his external hard drive.

“Cheri! I love you so much for these stupid names!”

“What stupid names?” Phichit grabs at his phone.

“Ice CaBabes, Phichit! Like… Ice Capades, right? Really?”

“That one stays. That’s for me, Guang Hong and Leo. Cause we _are_ Ice CaBabes, obviously.” Chris shakes his head, smile broadening on his face. “I mean, look, there’s probably old stuff on it I’d like to delete, but I’d already have to dig for that stuff anyway, so.” He shrugs and flips his hand in a gesture of dismissal.

“I did like the name of ours, though,” Chris smiles fondly, scrolling his finger through “Rink Mates. The name still makes me smile, petit.” Rink Mates was Chris, Hyun Woo, Seungy, and Phichit. For a couple months, it was the source of all his entertainment, the reason he loved to hear a notification ping on his phone, the first thing he checked in the morning when he woke up. For a brief time, that group chat had been everything.

“Rink Mates was fun, love,” Chris kisses his shoulder. Why is it that everyone can read his mind? Is he really so transparent? The grumpy-sad part of Phichit’s mind wants to latch onto something to be frustrated with. But then Chris deters him with: “These will soon be good memories, my hamster.”

Phichit _loves_ the way the word ‘hamster’ sounds in French. It’s the same word, same spelling, but they say it like ‘yam stare’. The word is Chris’s power play to force a Phichit smile. And it works, every time.

Phichit clears his throat and looks down at the files on his laptop screen. “Ha! Look, it's that first picture you requested of them! How hot are they together?” Phichit’s sigh is dreamy, rather than sad.

“It's the size difference, cheri. Hyun Woo wrapped around Seung Gil from behind like that? I mean, look at how broad that beef cake is.” It’s true. You can see Hyun Woo's shoulders and chest on BOTH sides of Seung Gil's body. Phichit can’t help the arousal stirring up just looking at this again. The night of the photo shoot for this one instigated some epic cam sex for him and Seungy. And then later, some sexy teasing and dishing for he and Chris.

Phichit hums at the memories. “I hope they're still together, this whole thing with us didn't mess them up.”

“That should be another thing you ask Seung Gil, darling.”

While chatting, like it's is no big deal, Phichit saves his Rink Mates memories on an external hard drive. The time lapse bar for the process ticks forward on his laptop's screen. The transfer is complete. Phichit detaches the hard drive. He and Chris look at Phichit’s phone. The name ‘Rink Mates’ is as familiar as their own two faces in little round icons, but the other two faces beside theirs have long since disappeared.

Phichit isn’t ready to push delete. Chris can feel it. Chris doesn’t say anything, just sits and waits.

Finally a sigh shudders deep in Phichit’s chest. "Here goes." He pretends to smile at Chris, craning his face away from the phone, stretching the offensive object as far away as his hand can reach. Then, eyes clenched shut, Phichit hits the button.

There's a few moments of reverent silence. Then it's over, done.

"Out with the old, in with the new," Phichit clicks the 'create new group' button and starts adding names.

Chris smirks, watching. "The four of us, hmmm?"

Phichit nudges him with an elbow. "Not like that!” His cheeks flush a little. “So I can keep myself honest by talking to you guys about my follies in real time. No more When Harry Met Sally-ing."

"Brilliant. We'll call it Thera-poly."

Phichit dissolves in giggles and punches in the name, sends the invites.

 _"Phichit-kun? What is this?"_ Yuri enters immediately.

 _"Love the name!"_ Victor jumps in just as quick. What time is it even in Japan right now? Or are they in Russia? Phichit feels bad that he can't remember where they're at right now.

 _"I deleted Rink Mates,"_ Phichit types. _"But I started this chat to help me vent and unload my garbage every once in a while, so I don't keep polluting Switzerland every time I visit."_

 _"To be fair, the Swiss have an excellent recycling program,"_ Chris leans Phichit's whole body sideways with his shoulder as he types. _"We're a very garbage friendly place."_

Phichit props himself upright against Chris’s side and pecks a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

Emojis light up the screen.

~~~~~~~~ _12 days later_ ~~~~~~~

When Phichit returns home, it’s not as easy to focus on the positives. He doesn’t have the patient, saintly Chris showering him with affection and understanding. He knows everything has worked out, it’s fine, he’s fine. But he can’t help replaying the mistakes he’s made over and over in his head, or worse, imagining how much happier he’d be right now if he hadn’t made all those mistakes.

He would’ve been cuddle buddies with Guang Hong and Leo every time he saw them, he thinks. If he’d done any of this right. He wouldn’t feel weird sending cheeky pics to Seung Gil yesterday. Seungy loves them, and commented on Phichit’s bright smile, but it doesn’t feel like it used to for Phichit. The brief conversation is over too fast, touching on nothing too deep. They aren’t lovers anymore, more like affectionate friends. And it sucks. It’s just like Seung Gil said, things can never be like they were before. Phichit knows that means something better could grow out of all this. But he can’t picture how to get from here to there.

Phichit tells his Therapoly family he feels like shit. He doesn’t want to text wall in the chat, so he sends a long, sad email with the subject: “Bitching and Whining at 1am.” He starts it with:

_“I’ve been reading all the blogs, the message boards, all these stories and reassurances that it’s not just me.”_

From there, he rambles. He mourns the loss of everything he had this past year. He feels like he failed everyone around him. He feels like he was the cause of so much pain and sadness and maybe it would be better if he'd never discovered polyamory. Then he could've just been a _bad boyfriend,_ or a shameless flirt, and a heartbreaker. What had Chris called him? A maneater.

Those labels seem easier to accept than an identity which connects him with people all over the world who've made mistakes similar to his, who'd loved everyone in a big way. All these people who never met a stranger, fell in love easily and completely all the time, these people understand him.

Being lumped in with a group of decent, ordinary people means there is nothing wrong with him!

He's just made a series of relatable mistakes in the way he's handled his love and affection, the way he hasn't communicated, or perhaps communicated all the wrong things, to everyone around him. In hindsight, with these explanations, his behavior makes sense. Everyone forgives him for not having the proper lexicon to tell people what he felt, wanted, or needed.

_“But I don’t deserve forgiveness, guys. Honestly, right now, I regret everything. I know long term, I won’t regret any of it. I’ve learned so much and had great experiences._

_But for right now, I regret all of it. I think about how I was so much happier before polyamory. I think, back then, I frustrated myself and didn’t understand myself or why others weren’t connecting with me the same way I connected with them, but it was okay. I didn’t mind being the odd, bubbly, overtly loving guy. That’s who I was. And I was used to my… affectionate personality… causing problems. Now, I don’t know if I like myself anymore, you know? I realize that’s dumb.”_

If Phichit could just hate himself for being a bad person, it'd be so much easier, right?

When everyone wakes up, his Therapoly group convinces him otherwise.

And he remembers how Guang Hong and Seung Gil still love him, want him to be happy.

It gets easier every day to love himself for who he is now, to craft a Poly Phichit identity by rearranging his memories around a new narrative, and to forgive himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~12 weeks later~~~~~~~~~

He sees Guang Hong again at Skate America for the first time after all this self-discovery.

 _“I tackle-hug-cried all over Guang Hong,”_ he tells Therapoly. They’re delighted with the story.

He and Guang Hong were friendly during practices and the competition, after the podium (which neither of them reach because JJ and Yurio are also there), and during the banquet. It’s not until the after party in someone’s suite that Phichit’s emotions overload him. He’s totally sober, but for whatever reason, he finds himself crying then laughing, then laugh-crying-hiccuping into Guang-hong’s shoulder.

“I really didn’t have words for this before, but know that I always loved you. I wasn’t trying to lead you on and I’m so sorry I hurt you!” Guang Hong holds him so tight, presses Phichit so close. He’s grown an inch in the last year or so and he and Phichit are nearly eye to eye. “I didn’t realize… I never lied to you! I always loved you! I still love you. Just exactly like I did before! Just the same. I love you!” It’s all punctuated with little hiccup laughs and happy tears and then whimpery sobs and sad tears and back again.

“I understand! I understand!” Guang Hong promises into Phichit’s hair, patting his back. “It’s okay. I love you too. I understand.”

Their heads fit neatly and comfortably on one another’s shoulders. Guang Hong is still underage here, so he’s not drinking either. Which means he has to be telling the truth and Phichit squeezes the life out of him for it. Guang Hong laughs and squeezes back.

Leo is there too, not competing, because somehow his assignments this year are everywhere else but his home turf. He’s been cheering them on all week. Leo watches this scene and can’t stand to stay on the sidelines when the two boys he loves more than any others are finally, _really_ okay again. He dives at them. He’s a head taller than them both now, and he kisses both of their crowns, wraps his long arms around them in a crushing group hug and they all laugh.

“It was the greatest,” Phichit sighs as he recounts the scene to Chris via FaceTime later that night. “It might be my favorite memory of my whole recovery, besides our call with Seungy.”

Chris loves seeing the smiles outnumber the frowns on his lover’s little face. 

When Chris visits Thailand after Skate America, Phichit cooks for him. Sweet and spiced aromas flavor the humid air of the kitchen. Chris wants to help, but after some vegetable slicing and cilantro plucking, everything is a one-man job, so Chris decides to keep him company instead. Taking a seat nearby and scrolling social media, his mouth waters for the food he can taste on his tongue with every breath. 

After some pleasant silence, but for the rhythmic melody of cooking utensils, Phichit clears his throat. His back is turned to Chris, who has a pretty good idea what’s coming. Phichit focuses on his noodles when he asks: 

“We should have _the talk,_ shouldn’t we?” 

“About the birds and bees?” Chris jokes. 

Phichit huffs and turns around. _Don’t be such a coward, Chulanout!_ “I mean… are we each other’s primaries?” 

“I am not a fan of that term,” Chris sighs. Phichit looks downcast and like he’s about to backpedal. Chirs waves a hand. “Petit, darling, I’ve acted as though you are my primary for months. But, do you know the term ‘anchor partner’?” Phichit shakes his head, though he already likes the sound of it. He takes the noodles off the heat. Chris smiles. “I prefer ‘anchor partner’ because it is similar in meaning, but doesn’t have the same feel in terms of ‘first’ and ‘second’. What do you think?”

“I’d be so happy to be your anchor partner, Christophe!” His blush is ridiculous and his smile so small and meek. He feels like a kid. Chris is right, they’ve acted like anchor partners for months, both of them. Why does saying it feel so wonderful? 

Chris is right there with him. “Making things official feels good, doesn’t it?” 

“Very much,” Phichit demurs. 

“I must insist,” Chris stands and scoops him in close, “that we seal this with a kiss.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~12 more weeks later~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Phichit and Seung Gil are caught by multiple cameras drunk kissing after the next banquet. Not that they didn’t also kiss other people, besides one another, but Guang Hong and Leo posted only the Phichit & Seungy pics. Hyun Woo likes and reposts every single one. 

Seung Gil made one of them is profile picture on Insta for a week.

Therapoly has a great time with those pics, too. Phichit assures everyone he is _FINE, for real this time, guys._ He and Seungy will never be what they once were, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t still great at kissing, flirting, and having fun. Phichit calls Seung Gil whenever he needs no-nonsense, practical, advice about anything. He’s taken to calling Seung Gil “My Real Talk Boyfriend.” To which Seung Gil responds “And you are my Sunshine Boyfriend.” Phichit’s folder of Seungy smiles is larger than ever. He shares several of the new ones from the banquet.

Therapoly are all on different continents tonight and Victor often uses the group chat, as much as his one-on-one messages to Yuri, to keep from being too lonely. 

_“You and Seung Gil have both found new partners that fulfill you in different ways than your relationship with each other.”_ Victor muses to Therapoly. _“But you don’t have to break up because of it! I think that’s beautiful.”_ Half a dozen sparkle emojis follow this up. 

_“Relationships can shift without ending,”_ Chris responds. _“There are so many ways to love and be loved.”_

 _“Yep. He’s still my boyfriend. I just love him *differently* than before.”_ Phichit adds a ton of heart emojis. 

That night, he’s on the phone with Yuri for hours, because Yuri’s even worse than Victor about getting lonely when separated. They’re at the point when both are dozing off, but want to keep chatting anyway. It’s been too long since they had a night like this. Yuri’s voice takes on a gentle murmur when he says: 

"You know I love you, too, Phichit? Anything you need, I'm here for you." 

“You’re too good to me, Yuri. No wonder my Chris is always jealous of you.”

Yuri laughs. “He’s not! Don’t say things like that.” 

“Uh-huh.” Phichit smiles. “You stole Victor away and you’ve got a longer history with me than Chris does. What’s not to be jealous of?” Phichit expects Yuri to keep denying it. He’s blindsided when Yuri coos: 

"We've played with Chris before... I mean... like, cuddle played, like almost a threesome, but not quite. _Played_...you know?"

Well, that’s Sleepy Yuri for you! Phichit can choose to follow this line of thought or put his best friend to bed and say goodnight. It’s not really a choice. 

"It must have been hard for them to stop at cuddling. Chris and Victor have a sexual history, don’t they?" 

"Yeah..." Yuri's entire face goes tomato. “They were so pretty together." 

Phichit just gapes at him. Yuri has always been good at listening to sex stories, but he _never_ shares any of his own. And he's not even finished yet! “I mean, uh, they... they were _hot,_ Phichit. I liked it.” The last time Yuri said something like that was... years ago? Phichit remembers there was a lot of alcohol involved and they were pretty cuddly with one another that night too. Yuri hasn't been drinking tonight. But they've been about as cuddly as two people can be on a video chat. He's drawn out of these thoughts by Yuri's shy voice. "You two should come visit us."

The suggestion sits in the air a while. Phichit buys time with a: “You think so?” to which Yuri nods emphatically. No, Phichit decides, if Yuri’s implying anything _like that_ then they need to be somewhere neutral, not at anyone’s house.

"Or we could all vacation together?" Phichit already has tabs open, searching for destinations. “Maybe find a place none of us has been to? I’d like that.”

"Yes. Let's.” Yuri swallows and Phichit smirks at his blush. Yuri’s face looks like he’s excited, but also tense, trying to control his eagerness, maybe. He's so cute when he stutters. “N-no-uh, No expectations or anything.” Yuri nods, as if saying it to himself rather than Phichit. Then, more definitive, “Just all getting together for the first time in forever." 

Poly Phichit’s eyes sparkle.

"It's a date.”


End file.
